


Brim Songfic Challenge

by akiioky



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Songfic, this might get emotional
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24624793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akiioky/pseuds/akiioky
Summary: Basically the premise of this is to hit shuffle on your playlist and base a oneshot/scenario on the song. This is my first ever writing on this platform, and honestly more for my personal indulgence :,)
Relationships: Brian Thomas/Timothy "Tim" Wright, Timothy “Tim” Wright/Brian Thomas
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. Chemical Veins

**Author's Note:**

> first song is: chemical veins - familypet

>   
>  **I’m sorry that I always start shit  
>  I’m sorry that I seem so heartless  
> Sorry I bled on the carpet  
> And sleep all day in your apartment  
> **

Tim always came stumbling back to Brian’s apartment; after fights, after getting shitfaced at a dingy bar to cope, after hating himself to the point he felt like Brian could wish for nothing more than to move away. Somewhere new, a fresh start without Tim. Maybe he’d meet a girl he could fall in love with like he used to talk about. By chance they’d get married, start a family. Brian would start to forget about all the nonsense. The operator, the tapes, “Hoodie”. And maybe, just maybe, he would forget about Tim too. 

He was used to it to say the least. Admiring from afar but never saying too much about it. Tim would prefer to keep his emotions bottled up, almost as if showing too much emotion would give away the fact that he is utterly, painfully, horrifyingly in love with Brian. 

Despite all the tragic, fucked up bullshit, Brian always stuck with him. As much as Tim can come across as uninvolved and disinterested, Brian hoped deep down, somewhere, he truly did care. 

> **See you down the bottom of barrels i’m fishing in**
> 
> **Stomp me out, toss me like roaches into the wind**

Even though he felt all these things about Tim, it didn’t stop him from forcing Tim out of his apartment and slamming the door behind him after a heated argument. 

“Don’t come back this time. I fucking mean that Tim.”

Tim couldn’t care less; he was heartbroken from the start.

> **At night the devil start speaking  
>  Sews hate in my heart till I'm heated  
> I pull on the seams just to breathe in  
> Still pushing down urges, still fiendin'**

  
After being cut off by the bartender for the third night in a row, Tim finally breaks. He cannot stand the idea of letting Brian brush this off so easily, while he sits here hating himself for stupidly falling in love with the wrong person altogether.

His legs begin to feel heavier with every block closer to Brian’s apartment. He could audibly hear someone speaking to him; his drunk mind confusing the words as demonic tongues.

”He doesn’t care, y’know. Better off without you.”

”You’re nothing but a problem, leave him alone.”

”Nobody would want _**you**_.”

What if this is a mistake? What if Brian refuses to listen to his bullshit anymore? What if Brian couldn’t care less if Tim was in love with him or not? His heart pounded in his ears, starting to become overwhelmed. 

“No, no, no. Fuck this. I’m going to tell him if it’s the last thing I do.”

> **Float away  
>  Into the clouds, created by bullets  
> Throw away  
> All of my feelings, my brain says they're useless**

Climbing up the last couple steps to get to apartment lucky number seven, he stops. The first time he came here, Brian and himself joked about this apartment being a sign of good fortune in the future. For Tim, it could not have been any more unlucky. 

Taking a bruised fist, he knocks cautiously on the door. He waits, one, two, three counts before the door is hesitantly opened. 

“What do you want, Tim.”

In all honesty, Tim didn’t even think Brian would answer the door to begin with. All kind of rational thought went out of the window. He stumbles over the first words, both because of intense anxiety and him being drunk.

Brian cuts him off before giving him the chance to answer,

”I’m guessing you need a place to sleep tonight.”

Not knowing what else to say, Tim simply nods, keeping his eyes trained on the very bottom of Brian’s pants. 

“You don’t **_deserve_** to look him in the eyes”

Brian lets him inside and settles him on the living room couch, making sure as to place a small wastebasket next to the couch in case Tim needs it. Brian retreats to his room almost immediately, still upset.

Tim’s hands reach their way to his bottle of all too large medications, quickly taking three to shut the voices out and hopefully let him get some sleep.

> **Taste of these chemical veins  
>  My intuition is lifted whenever I hit or sip it  
> I got it, I get it till I am forgetting my name**

Tim looks around, noticing the places where black lettering is scrawled onto the wall. Everything clicks; he knows exactly why Brian pushed him out. 

He’s too much for him. Too much to handle, too much to take care of, too much to tolerate being friends with. He understands why Brian abandoned him.

It’s the same reason everyone else abandons him. 

> **What's death but an option?  
>  I'm shit like my posture  
> Feel like an imposter  
> Live life like a monster  
> Just sad that I lost her  
> Now drown in the pain  
> Of these chemical veins**

Slowly getting up, trying to keep quiet, he goes for the apartment door. He wants to leave, escape, take the burden off of his best friend — the one person he’s managed to fall in love with. He wants to have the luxury Brian has of forgetting.

Just to his luck, he ends up tripping over the wastebasket next to the couch, falling, and hitting the floor. Tim scrambles to get up and get out as fast as he can before Brian comes to check on him.   
  


He gets one hand on the doorknob before the light in the living room flicks on. Brain, with bags under his eyes and hurt written across his brow is standing in the walkway. Brian, who had nurtured him back to health every single time, who had given him a place to stay, a place where he felt like he could belong. 

“Where are you going, Tim?”

Tim can’t manage the idea of looking into those syrup colored eyes, of having to face the fear of being abandoned yet again. 

“I uh, I’m going for a walk. To clear my head.” 

He keeps his eyes trained on the floor. Brian begins to make his way over to Tim, who immediately flinches in response to Brian being so close to him. 

“Tim. Talk to me about what is going on with you. You’ve been distant for months. I don’t feel like you want me as a friend anymore.”

Tim freezes, glancing up to look at the expression of pure worry on the other’s face. He feels horrible, like he’s going to be sick. He’s put Brian through so much shit, and made Brian feel like he hates him, and for what? He can’t even manage to just spit it out, consequences to telling him be damned. 

He sighs, Brian lowers his head, softly shaking it. 

“If you want to leave, leave then. Obviously the past month of this happening hasn’t done anything to fix it.”

That’s it. That’s all Tim needed.

”I’m in love with you damnit! Do you know how hard it is to be around your best friend of almost 10 years when you want to be _with_ them? I hate myself for even thinking about ruining the friendship with someone I’ve been close to since high school! Do you get it, Brian? I’m so fucking in love with you it hurts, I’d rather distance myself from you than put you through the misery of being with someone like me.”

Brian stood appalled, trying to wrap his brain around what Tim was saying. Tim loves him. Tim wasn’t trying to be an asshole, he’s just terrible at expressing emotions. He chuckles, before falling into full blown laughter.

”You think this is funny Brian?”

”I’ve been in love with you since high school you absolute idiot.”

Tim froze, wide-eyed, feeling entirely too sober. He what? But what about everything that happened? What about finding a wife and moving and having a family?

Brian took the chance to take Tim’s hand into his own, pulling him away from his front door. 

“I’ve loved you since we were kids. It was never about finding someone new, I know you must have got the impression. It was always you. Always, Tim.”

Feeling his eyes start to water, Tim pulls the other into a much needed embrace. He cries and cries for what feels like hours into Brians shirt, before Brian agrees they should head to sleep and talk things out in the morning when Tim is all there.

They go to bed, together, Tim curled into Brian’s arms. 

“Hey Bri?”

”Yeah?”

”I love you.”

”I love you too, Tim.”


	2. bad mood, bad year

> **Baby** , **it's alright with me, yeah  
>  Kill me here, I'm on my knees  
> Don't make me say pretty please  
> So fucked up, lost everything, yeah**

Brian sits down, legs swinging over the edge of it. This was the place his beloved boyfriend jumped from exactly 8 months ago. 

It was hard, trying to cope with losing the only other person you had. Some days were worse than others, and today happened to be one of the worst ones.

It was Tim’s birthday today, Christmas day. Last Christmas they had exchanged gifts, made each other hot chocolate, and cuddled together. Brian remembers how the Christmas lights glimmered off of Tim’s eyes, how he looked so much younger when he was grinning. They were the cheesy couple that bought each other matching pajamas and wore Santa hats. 

He smiles fondly on the memory, toying with the ring Tim had gotten him as a surprise for last Christmas. 

> **I'm feeling like a love-lost, fuck-up  
>  I know I never made much progress on us  
> I know I never fucking focus, I guess  
> I guess I'm just so fucking hopeless at best**

A wet drop hit his hand. It was only at this point Brian realized he was crying.

He hated himself. It was his fault why Tim even made it to the bridge in the first place. Sure arguments happen, but he knew he never needed to take it that far. The memory of him screaming at Tim to leave him alone haunts him. Those were the last words he said to him. No _I love you_ or _be safe._ Tim went out for a walk, probably to stress smoke.

After three hours of worrying, Brain finally ended up getting the call telling him his fiancé had completed suicide. 

> **Caught me in a bad place  
>  Bad mood, bad year  
> I still hear your name  
> Yeah, it's ringing in my ear  
> Shoot me through the heart  
> Hunt me down, please my dear  
> Baby kill me now  
> Please, girl let me die here**

In reality it wasn’t Tim’s fault for Brian screaming at him that night. Brian had been having issues with work, and his strictly Catholic family not being too fond of the announcement. 

Brian sat there on the edge, sobbing into his palms. He could have saved Tim if he wasn’t so stubborn and hardheaded. If he thought before he spoke, if he would have just told him what was going on.

The news of his soon-to-be husband dying hit him like a summer storm, strong, loud, angry. Brian trashed the house, screamed until his voice went hoarse, cried and cried and cried for days upon days. 

“It should have been me.”

> **Bury my dreams beneath these screams  
>  Abandon hope and let me bleed**

After getting back home, Brian called the hospital he worked day shift at. The cheerful woman on the other end of the line acknowledged it was him.

”Oh hi Brian, need the schedule again?”

”Uh, no actually. I just wanted to let everyone know I’m resigning from working at the hospital.”

“...Oh, alright then. Um, I’ll let them know. Can you finish this week out?”

”Sorry, I can’t. A lot of things have come up I need to take care of.”

”Alright...”

”Thank you.”

Brian hung up the phone and went to the closet where all of Tim’s things rest, completely untouched. He thought if he touched them, it would make things too real for him to deal with. 

Tonight he took Tim’s university hoodie off the hanger it had been on since Tim died. It was his favorite of the extensive collection he had, and wore it even during the sweltering summers. The memory was fond, but distant. 

He climbed into bed, wrapped in Tim’s shirt, and cried again. Brian screamed and begged if there was a God, a God as good as they say, to bring Tim back, to take him instead. 

> **I called your phone  
>  You called it off  
> You're at your peak  
> I'm at a loss  
> I was so weak  
> All along  
> I will admit though  
> I was wrong**

In the morning, Brian’s face is puffy and swollen. His nose has bled last night from how hard he was crying, and the faint remnants of the blood were crusted around his nostrils still.

Pulling a pair of sweatpants on, and his shoes, he walks out of his house. The air smells different, sweet almost. Almost like the cologne Tim would wear on special occasions. 

He walks down the road multiple blocks before reaching the same bridge. Sitting down, he swings his legs over the ledge. 

> **Caught me in a bad place  
>  Bad mood, bad year  
> I still hear your name  
> Yeah, it's ringing in my ear  
> Shoot me through the heart  
> Hunt me down, please my dear  
> Baby kill me now  
> Please, girl let me die here**

Brian reaches into his pocket and pulls a cigarette and a lighter out. After Tim died, Brian picked up a smoking habit to cope, going through almost a pack a day. Tim would kill him if he knew Brian picked up on his nasty habit. 

He lights the cigarette and brings it to his lips. Inhale, exhale. 

After roughly ten minutes, Brian flicks the butt end of the cigarette into the water hundreds of feet below him, and takes a glance down into the murky water. The endless abyss of it seems like the closest he could be to his Tim. 

> **Baby, it's alright with me, yeah  
>  Kill me here, I'm on my knees  
> Don't make me say pretty please  
> So fucked up, lost everything, yeah**

Glancing around just to double check that nobody is around, Brian stands up. 

He leans over the railing, and stares into the deep water. If he looks at it long enough, it starts to look like the colour of his husband’s eyes. Brian smiles, which eventually turns into a grin. 

Ever so carefully, he lifts one legs and sets it on the other side of the railing. He checks his hold, and then swings his other leg over. 

> **Caught me in a bad place  
>  Bad mood, bad year  
> I still hear your name  
> Yeah, it's ringing in my ear  
> Shoot me through the heart  
> Hunt me down, please my dear  
> Baby kill me now  
> Please, girl let me die here**

”I will always love you, Timothy.”

Brian loosens his hold on the railing, and jumps.


End file.
